


Of Buttons and Countdowns [Outtakes]

by TumblingBackpacks



Series: Countdown 'verse [2]
Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Sleepy Bois Inc as Family, Technoblade is Bad at Feelings (Video Blogging RPF), Wilbur Soot and Technoblade and TommyInnit are Siblings, bc I need SBI as good bros, now including an alternate happy ending to part 1
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-29
Updated: 2021-01-18
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:41:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28404900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TumblingBackpacks/pseuds/TumblingBackpacks
Summary: Scenes in the Countdown 'verse that either didn't fit into the 5+1 format or were told in a perspective that wasn't Wilbur'sIn which Quackity is having an all around bad time, Techno trying his best to get his family together, and Tommy wants to protect Tubbo (+ alternate happy ending)
Relationships: Toby Smith | Tubbo & Technoblade, Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit, Wilbur Soot & Technoblade, Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit
Series: Countdown 'verse [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2078529
Kudos: 47





	1. Quackity - doubt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quackity's thoughts after the festival

Quackity was stuck. He didn’t know what he was supposed to do. Any faith or friendship he had with Schlatt had all but disintegrated, and every chance that Quackity had given him was carelessly tossed aside.

His opinions didn’t matter. His feelings didn’t matter. _Quackity_ didn’t matter, not to Schlatt. 

Every “Flatty Patty” tossed at him grated just that little bit more, and there Schlatt was, a barely functioning alcoholic, drinking away all his problems— problems Schlatt himself had caused. Were there even problems that Schlatt hadn’t caused? Really, he had brought it all on himself, and Quackity was sick of being strung along.

George was lucky. He was one of the closest people with Dream and had an out whenever he so chose. Even Schlatt couldn’t go against the admin. Quackity, however, he had none of that. So here he was, suffering through yet another one of Schlatt’s drunken rants, nodding along lest he be “cast out”

Quackity had honestly believed in his campaign in the beginning. It was really fun running for presidency. He was under no illusion that he would make a good president. He knew he wasn’t qualified for something like that, but he was more than willing to pool his votes to help Schlatt win. It was even a bit satisfying ousting Tommy and Wilbur, but now? He wished nothing more than to take it all back.

He tried blaming George, for sleeping in and causing votes to not go their way. He was blaming Schlatt, for all the problems he had caused in his carelessness for the nation. But most of all, he wanted to avoid putting blame on himself, because he didn’t want to admit that it was his own fault for letting it go this far.

Quackity had spent his time enjoying dates and trying to foster a romance when it had been abundantly clear from the beginning that Schlatt never really cared. Not like that anyway. 

He didn’t do enough to protest Schlatt’s decisions, whether out of apathy or ignorance or fear. The festival had been an example of the latter. 

He couldn’t leave, Quackity knew that if he tried he would be hunted down for sure. He couldn’t go to Pogtopia. Wilbur and Tommy may have been willing to work with him to gain some inside information, but after the festival, after what he did to Tubbo, he would be lucky to not be murdered by either of them on sight. He didn’t have any support.

And so, Quackity shoved all of his thoughts of rebellion— of dissenting, deep down. Buried his personal feelings where they would never reach the light of day, and continued to pretend. Pretend he was fine with the way things were going. Pretend that he continued to support Schlatt. Pretend that things would get better if he just stuck it out long enough. 

They were lies, of course, but right now lies were all he had. And he hated himself for it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear I really like Quackity and Schlatt, whenever I write them they just end up doing bad things ;-; One day, I'll write a really nice fluffy piece with the two of them just being friends with no conflict... today is not that day


	2. Technoblade - concern

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Techno's perspective during and after the festival

As much as people characterized Techno as an aloof murderer, he didn’t revel in death. Most of the time anyway. He didn’t go out seeking it, not intentionally, but people had the tendency to poke and prod until he had no choice but to react. From there it was a slippery slope into violence.

(The voices were all too happy to push him in that direction.)

It was almost like an addiction. He could control himself if he avoided it. Out of sight, out of mind, was a rather effective strategy. If he could maintain that, he would be fine. But people kept calling him back for one reason and one reason only. 

_Blood for the blood god._

Honestly? He was tired of it. It was really tempting to just leave it all behind. Drop off the grid and retire. But no, he was here because Tommy and Wilbur had called him in, and he couldn’t just say no to them. He couldn’t reject his brothers.

So when he was at a festival, prepared by the president of a system he despised, he kept his mood light, kept all speech and acts of violence out of his system. He tried his very best to just enjoy the festival and _socialize_ , making some jokes about being “trapped” in water, using a strength potion to end the boxing match as quickly as possible. 

He could give in to his tendencies for violence and burn the whole place down. Collapse the government in a bang so large that nothing could possibly rise again. Something fitting for an anarchist of his caliber. But he didn’t. 

He put as much effort as he could into the opposite, in fact. Farming potatoes to provide food rather than dropping bodies to get people out of the way. Grinding supplies and gear to take his energy out on mobs rather than players.

Then, the festival took a turn. Techno knew something felt a bit off, he also knew Tommy and Wilbur had a plan to secretly sneak in (something to do with Tubbo’s speech?). So when Schlatt began to surround Tubbo with concrete, his first thought was _I need to leave_.

Pogtopia’s plans were not as secret as they had originally thought, and Techno knew this could only end badly. He wasn’t the closest with Tubbo, but Tommy was, and by proxy Techno was inclined to protect him. 

But at the current moment, he couldn’t use brute strength to do that. In fact, his entire presence was likely a greater threat to Tubbo than anything else. So Techno did the only thing he could think to do. He removed himself from the situation, using his trident to take him as far as he could in a matter of seconds.

What good that did. Techno went back to the base just as his communicator rang.

_< Tubbo_ was slain by TommyInnit>_

That… that was unexpected. A few moments later, Tubbo respawned on the bed. Techno looked down at his communicator again, then back up at Tubbo, who looked absolutely shaken by whatever events had occurred. 

Techno wasn’t the best at emotions, or social interactions in general, but he also wanted to try. He lowered his trident, trying to look as non threatening as possible as he took a seat on the bed where Tubbo was currently sitting. What now?

People… people patted each other on the back? No… that was in celebration. They weren’t close enough for hugs either. What would Philza do? Techno tried putting a hand on Tubbo’s shoulder, quickly retracting it as Tubbo flinched under his touch. Why was this so hard?

“Are you… okay?” Techno asked slowly. What kind of question was that? He obviously wasn't! Tubbo let out a pained sort of noise, almost like a dying whimper, which Techno supposed wasn’t too far from the truth. 

“Ah—words” Tubbo tried again, making a vague gesture at himself as he slumped over to lean on Technoblade. Ah, respawn pains. Not uncommon, Techno wasn’t fond of them himself, and took great measures to ensure he didn’t die.

“I— uh, have a health potion.” 

Tubbo accepted it with a grateful smile, taking a small sip before downing the entire bottle. “Thank you.”

“Better?” Techno asked. 

“Still sore, but yeah.”

Techno nodded in approval. That was an improvement at least. Then, Tommy and Wilbur returned, the former of which was absolutely furious with him.

Techno could understand where the anger was coming from, but it didn’t mean he wasn’t annoyed. He didn’t doubt that Tommy likely hadn’t killed Tubbo without some outside influence, but that didn’t stop his rather cold retort when Tommy tried pinning the blame on him.

Wilbur was strangely eager to see them fight, and Techno didn’t know how to feel about that. Tommy had made passing comments of Wilbur going insane, but Techno hadn’t seem much proof of that besides a few odd behaviors.

Now though, now it was getting pretty clear how Wilbur’s mental health was declining. Techno wished he could just make a potion to make this all go away, but he couldn’t. Phil was always better at diffusing situations like this than he was. 

He idly wondered how things might be different if Phil had been here. Techno wanted to ask him for his thoughts, for advice… but held back.

Not yet, he could fix this, but there was a lot to do, and Techno wanted to do it right. He needed to confront Wilbur, first and foremost. Possibly repair his relationship with Tommy? Tommy wasn’t one for forgiveness, and Techno wasn’t about to try to beg for it. He would have to leave that one to time. 

He needed more supplies, better gear. That wasn’t too difficult. He could allocate time to collect and craft. But those were just periphery issues stemming from the main problem, a problem that would take significant more effort to take down. 

Techno could see it now more clearly than ever, the problem was the government. It had always _been_ government. He already had plans to take it down, but it seemed he needed to take more drastic measures in doing so. And for the sake of his family, he would.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Techno is trying his best


	3. Tommy - anger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tommy's perspective during and after the festival

Anger was always the easiest emotion to deal with, in Tommy’s opinion. It was so straight forward, there was no complexity in getting mad. If something caused displeasure, anger would bubble up, and he could act on it. Yelling, fighting, whatever.

And once he was burned out, the emotion passed. The main one at least. Sometimes the anger would flutter away, leaving him feeling a bit more relaxed, sometimes it would simply simmer down, waiting for another time to flare up with a brighter intensity. 

Fear, on the other hand, sucked. The sense of dread was one that Tommy hated, and the look in Wilbur’s eyes when he explained his plan to explode Manburg had filled him with that very sense of fear and dread. He hated it. 

Wilbur looked downright manic, and Tommy didn’t know what to do. He spewed his crazy plans with such confidence, wholeheartedly believing he was in the right, and nothing Tommy said could change his mind.

So he changed tracks, put in all his efforts into protecting Tubbo. His closest friend, who he considered a brother. Who was practically family.

Tommy warned him to be safe, sharing his doubts about Wilbur. Tubbo, always someone he could count on to listen, had supported him, directed him to Niki to _maybe_ talk some sense into Wilbur. And Tommy did.

He gave her a visit, and she was as welcoming as ever. Allowing him to rant for as long as he needed, even providing a cake to give to Wilbur, wrapping it up all nicely even though she had no real reason to do so.

He had asked her if she could talk to Wilbur and she agreed she would try, though she asked if he could attempt to convince him first, promising to stand aside and intervene if necessary.

The intervention turned out to be very necessary as Wilbur’s madness had gotten worse. Honestly, Tommy was getting worried. And scared. 

Wilbur was _scaring_ him, and Tommy hated it. Wilbur was supposed to be someone he could trust! Why did it feel like he was fighting against two dictators instead of one? 

Schlatt was the enemy here, and yet Wilbur was also planning on destroying their nation that they had worked so hard to build. Didn’t that also make him the enemy?

Tommy tried to ignore the doubts, as they snuck into the festival, Wilbur promising Tubbo would be protected. But he didn’t, Wilbur just stood by, too busy trying to find his _stupid button_ to protect Tubbo. And his anger flared up full force, not knowing where to direct it.

He was angry at Schlatt for setting Tubbo up for execution. He was angry at Quackity for performing the deed. He was angry at Wilbur for lying, for not keeping his promise to protect Tubbo. He was angry at Technoblade for leaving, having so much power and using none of it. He was angry at himself, for not being fast enough or strong enough. 

In the end, after Tubbo had been stabbed, all he could do was stab Quackity in return. Get him out of the way and hopefully feel some semblance of the pain he had inflicted on Tubbo. He forcefully shoved Schlatt aside, ignoring his yells for his and Wilbur’s capture as he bent down to try and help Tubbo. 

Tubbo, who was bleeding out in front of him. Tommy didn’t have anything to heal him. Why didn’t he bring potions? His hands were stained with blood as he tried to hold Tubbo, telling him it was going to be okay (even though it wasn’t). 

Tommy barely held back a sob as Tubbo assured him he would be okay, despite his winces of pain. Tubbo was going to bleed out, slowly, painfully, and Tommy was absolutely furious at his lack of ability to do anything to stop Tubbo’s pain. 

Well, not exactly. There was one way to stop the pain, but Tommy didn’t want to go that route. Tubbo made the same realization, could see Tommy’s doubt, and gave a light squeeze of his hand.

“It’s okay.” Tubbo forced a pained smile. “I’ll just respawn. It’s fine.”

“I won’t let this happen again.” Tommy vowed, raising his sword. Just do it fast, make it painless. Tubbo looked back at him with clear eyes, grateful, inclining his head in a slight nod.

Tommy brought the sword down, and for a moment he thought he was stuck by an arrow based on the absolute pain that clenched in his chest when Tubbo’s body puffed into smoke. His communicator buzzed and Tommy knew exactly what the notification said, not bothering to look at the words that haunted him for weeks afterward.

“Tubbo…” he whispered, wanting to curl in on himself, lay there forever, but he couldn’t. There was still a battle raging around them, people were trying to capture and imprison them. So, as a burning anger raged in his head, he forced himself up. Blocking a blow from Ant directed at Wilbur. Tossing a pearl so they could both escape. 

He had never bought into the whole “vision turning red” when someone got mad, but it got pretty close when he saw Techno and Tubbo _together_ in the base. The nerve!

The anger flared anew as he shouted at Techno, saying lots of things he didn’t really mean and playing directly into Wilbur’s new found violent tendencies. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew he was being irrational, that his anger was misdirected, but he couldn’t bring himself to care in the moment. 

Someone was telling him to stop— _Tubbo_ was telling him to stop, but Tommy didn’t want to. He wanted to punch something, and Techno was _right there_! He figured that if he could make someone else hurt, maybe, just maybe, it would take away the pain and guilt that was building in his chest. 

So he tried, attacking in a rage fueled haze. And he lost.

Tommy was slumped against the wall of the pit, trying to push himself back up— continue the fight— but he just couldn’t. His entire body ached in protest and he was sure that bruises were already beginning to form. 

Techno tossed him a health potion before turning to leave, and it took all his willpower to not smash the bottle on the ground. Stupid Technoblade. Stupid Schlatt. Stupid festival. 

Tubbo walked up, wincing as he sat down beside him. Tommy tried handing him the health potion, partly because he didn’t want to accept anything Techno gave him at the moment, but mostly because he felt Tubbo needed it more.

“Just take it,” Tommy tried pushing into Tubbo’s hands. 

“You keep it, your fight was more recent anyway.” Tubbo responded, handing the potion back to Tommy. That didn’t even make sense! Tubbo was the one who had _died_! If anything, he needed the potion more. 

Both of them held firm on their stances, and in the end, neither of them ended up drinking the potion. A poor decision logically, but it was about the principle, Tommy supposed. 

There was no doubt that tomorrow would bring another challenge for them to face, another fight they would need to be concerned with. Wilbur was still intent on blowing everything up, and Tommy doubted that the failed attempt at the festival would be the last time Wilbur tried. Schatt was still a threat to Pogtopia, and they still hadn’t gotten L’manburg back.

But for now, Tommy decided, he and Tubbo could rest. The pit wasn’t the most comfortable place to rest, and he could hear the muffled sounds of Wilbur and Technoblade arguing outside, but Tommy decided that none of that mattered in the moment. 

Tubbo rested his head on Tommy’s shoulder. Things were far from okay, but as long as Tubbo was with him, they could rely on each other's support. Tommy stayed awake, waiting for Tubbo’s breaths to slow before drifting asleep with a peaceful smile on his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tommy and Tubbo being best friends is my favorite thing ever


	4. Technoblade - conversation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Techno's perspective during his conversation with Wilbur

Techno was already regretting his decision to pull Wilbur to the side. Wilbur had the manic look in his eyes and it was fostering an urge for chaos in himself.

( _Blood for the blood god_ , the voices chanted.)

“We need to have a conversation,” Techno said. 

“A conversation,” Wilbur scoffed. “I thought this wasn’t your thing.”

“It’s not,” Techno fought to stay focused. The voices were so loud, clamoring for his attention, trying to convince him back into violence. 

Techno tried to turn his attention back to the conversation, and it seemed Wilbur was trying to get his attention as well, but his voice sounded muffled. Almost like he was underwater. 

He could do this, he just needed to conversate. Philza had them do this numerous times before so they would “get along”, Techno could do so now. 

“I haven’t told anyone, but—” Techno started.

_—I want to be less violent_

_—I don’t think blowing up Manbug is a good idea_

_—I’m worried about you_

“I have come across the materials to make not one, but two withers.”

Techno wanted to bash his head against a wall. That was literally the _last_ thing he wanted to say. He wanted to _stop_ Wilbur from spiraling deeper into… whatever was happening to him. This was literally making the situation worse, and to top it off, the _stupid voices_ kept cheering him on. 

Wilbur lit up with a manic grin that Technoblade was unnerved to see. This wasn’t like Wilbur, this wasn’t how he acted. Something pushed him over the edge and Techno didn’t know how to fix it. Wilbur continued to gush about his future plans of destruction, patting him on the shoulder before heading back inside. 

Technoblade sighed. Once they took down Schlatt, Wilbur would go back to normal. He had to. Right? 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Techno is bad at emotions (TM)


	5. Wilbur - dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alternate happy ending, picks up directly after chapter 6 of part 1 of this series

The enormity of what he had just done was filling his mind. What had he done? It seemed so rational, so necessary a moment ago, but in the aftermath… Wilbur didn’t think this was worth it. He fell to the ground as the edges of his vision blurred and everything faded into darkness. Then...

_Tick. Tick. Tick._

Wilbur shot up into a seated position, squeezing his eyes shut and clutching his head, “Just. Stop. Ticking!”

His entire body was tensed up, heart still racing from the explosions echoing off in his head. He took a shaky breath. Then another. This wasn’t okay. _He_ wasn’t okay.

“Wil?” Someone asked. Wilbur didn’t know who, he didn’t look up. Air was becoming more difficult to take in. He felt like he was drowning. He tried to take deeper breaths. 

A hand settled on his shoulder. “Hey Wil?”

A different voice, it was familiar. Both voices were familiar. 

Another set of hands gently pried his hands from his face. He looked up slowly to see two people standing in front of him. “Tommy? Tubbo?”

“Hey, you alright?” Tommy asked in an uncharacteristically soft tone. 

“Yeah,” Wilbur absently nodded, still trying to wrap his head around the events he remembered had unfolded. “L’Manburg?”

“Don’t worry Wilbur,” Tubbo assured, “We’ll get it back once Schlatt’s gone.”

“But...” Wilbur trailed off, frowning. “Schlatt _is_ gone. He died. Then the explosions...”

Tommy and Tubbo shared a look. “Explosions?”

_Tick. Tick. Tick._

“The button. L’Manburg’s gone.” Wilbur repeated insistently. His insanity, the explosions, Phil... 

“The ticking isn’t stopping! I thought I stopped it!” Wilbur said desperately. 

“You’re not making any sense, Wil.” Tommy said. “You said you weren’t going to press the button.”

“And you didn’t!” Tubbo finished. “You’re not... you’re not still planning on hitting the button, are you?”

“I—“ Wilbur scrubbed a hand down his face. He had pressed the button. Hadn’t he? But Phil wasn’t here right now, and apparently L’Manburg was still standing. 

He took a moment to actually look around him. He was in a bed. Had it all been a dream? That seemed so cliche... and yet. The ticking was still there. That meant the button had yet to be pushed, right? Wilbur took it as a second chance, to not make the same mistakes he just made (or technically didn’t make?) 

“No. I—I won’t.” Wilbur said.

“What’s going on here?” Techno’s voice said from the doorway. He was leaning against the doorframe, his figure casting a silhouette from the dim moonlight coming from the windows.

“Wilbur just woke up screaming,” Tubbo explained, “We’re trying to help.”

Techno raised an eyebrow, and Wilbur took it as his way of asking _are you okay_? 

“Fine,” Wilbur said. “Just restless for what’s going to happen with Schlatt.”

“Look, the revolution is tomorrow, well actually later today since it’s technically early morning.” Techno said, “But we can deal with it then.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I guess we can.” Wilbur said. “Sorry for waking you all up.”

“No problem,” Tubbo said sitting down on the bed, “Honestly, I’m just glad you’re not acting all... _weird_ anymore.”

Tommy crossed his arms, “Yeah, it’s like you were on a villain arc or something.”

Techno took a seat at the side of the bed, his back to the mattress, “Goodnight Wil.”

“You’re not going to leave?” Wilbur asked.

“Nah, I’ll just stay guard here,” Techno crossed his arms and closing his eyes as he leaned against the bed frame. He definitely wasn’t sleeping, but Wilbur was grateful for the gesture of trust.

“Want us to stay here too?” Tubbo asked.

“Sure, if you want.” Wilbur replied.

Tommy scoffed, “Well I’m not staying, this seems too much like a sleepover for a big man like me.”

“Aw c’mon Tommy,” Tubbo insisted.

A teasing smile crossed Wilbur’s face, “You know you want to.”

“No,” Tommy huffed. “Wilby I don’t—“

The smile on Wilbur’s face grew wider and Tommy immediately back pedaled, “Nononono, I said Wilbur. I said _Wilbur_.”

“Sure you did, Tommy.” Wilbur grinned. Even Techno huffed a laugh in his pretend sleep. “You can call me Wilby.”

“I did _not_ call you Wilby.” Tommy argued. His voice softened a bit, “but I guess I’ll stay if it’ll get you to shut up about it.”

“Move,” Tommy said, squeezing into a spot at the foot of the bed. Wilbur shifted his legs and Tubbo adjusted his position to get under the blankets. Wilbur laid back down with a sigh. 

With the comforting warmth of brothers surrounding him, his worry for the future melted away. He was confident that, whatever happened next, they would deal with together. No more paranoia and mistrust of traitors.

Wilbur drifted off into a peaceful sleep, the room completely quiet, not even a tick.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Plot twist! The ticking was just a metaphor for Wilbur slipping into insanity, only stopping when he either fell too far or was helped back into a more rational state of mind (cue SBI comfort!) ~~yup, definitely a plot twist and not my excuse to give this a happy ending~~ :)


End file.
